


We Will Be Fine

by AllisonDiamond



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst and Romance, Break Up, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8137204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllisonDiamond/pseuds/AllisonDiamond
Summary: "John sighs. He wants to believe Flint so badly, but he can’t find in his heart to trust the man before his very eyes. He can’t even trust himself not when it comes to Captain James Flint. He just can’t."





	

It’s funny really how screwed he is. He should have known— he just warms the captain’s bed when it’s convenient. He is no better than a whore. He’s probably the only one legged whore Flint has managed to take to bed. He wants to laugh, he really does, but he can’t when he's breaking apart in the inside.

_This is what you get, Silver, falling for a hardened man like Flint_ , he reminds himself mockingly, clasping his hands together above his chest. His heart feels tight and contested; he wants to curl up on himself and _then_ sobs like a bloody fucking woman.

He is truly pathetic to be thinking like this. What is wrong with him? Flint only has possibly two great loves in his life — _Thomas and Miranda Barlow_ — and that doesn't include him. He cannot measure up to the Barlows no matter how hard he tries. He isn't as handsome, he is sure, as Thomas, or as nice as the Barlow lady. He is, though, a liar, a cheat, and a scum. He’s nothing good, nothing pure, nothing great. 

Flint deserves better if he ever decides to open up his heart up again. A nice lady or man who will do more than just warm his bed up.

Not John.

John isn't worthy of Flint’s heart.

Flint makes sure of that from the start. Always telling him that he’s just a good fuck. Just a warm body to find comfort in. At the time, he had laughed it off because it’s not like he wanted to have what Thomas and Miranda Barlow had with Flint. But then he wanted that and so much more. That’s the difference between him and Flint; Flint wants a quick fuck, but John wants a connection, a god damned relationship if that sort of thing is even possible between two men.

That’s never going to happen and he has to make peace with that. John knows he should at least put an end to this thing between him and Flint, but he cannot, not even when he feels like he's loosing a part of himself every damn time they fucked. He cannot do that — he has a reputation to keep, and most importantly, he can’t take away this small comfort he is sure Flint gets from their daily fucking. He just can’t and if he is going to get destroyed in the process, he would gladly take it, because seeing Flint smiling is enough for him to stop caring about himself.

His feelings don't matter.

“Sil—John, is everything alright?”

He looks up to Flint’s concerned and oh, so soft eyes. They are the most softest andcalming shade of green, so peaceful to look at unlike the tough, hardened man, but so handsome man he has come to known. So easy to get lost in.

“Beg pardon?” John smirks, licking his lips, trying his best not to break at Flint’s intense gaze. “Oh, captain, don’t worry so much about little ole me. I’m doing quite nicely with the new leg and all.”

Flint sighs before taking a seat on John’s small bed. “John, you have not been well since I yelled at you.”

“Oh, don’t be like this, captain,” John teases, wiggling his eyebrows. “You’ve yelled at me plenty. I’ve taken liberty with being your personal yell-at friend. It is quite a honor really.”

“I called you a whore, John!” Flint gripped the bedsheets tightly. “A one-legged, good for nothing whore! I shouldn't have said that. Shouldn’t have used your injury against you. You don't deserve this sort of crap from me. You should have told me off like you always do when I am in the wrong.”

John laughs because really what else is he supposed to do? Run and sob like a bloody woman into Flint’s hands? He knows how pathetic he is; Flint doesn't need to know that. “Flint—James, I’m fine. Since when does I ever take anything you say seriously?” _All the time, but you don’t need to know that._ “Never. You’re more times wrong than you’re right.”

Flint’s face does not soften nor does his grip on the sheets loosen. “John, can you fuckin’ stop with the pretend already? I’ve hurt you, fuckin’ god, so many times.”

“No, you have not. It takes more than a few words to break through my shield,” he says in a mocking voice. _You’ve hurt me ever since the first time you fucked me, calling me Thomas. Always comparing me to Thomas Barlow or the Barlow lady. But you don’t need to know that. Because I’m fine really, as long as I keep telling myself that, I will be._

“Can we talk about this like grown men?”

“Oh, but we are.”

Flint sighs and grabs John’s hand. He grips it tightly and quite painfully, but loosens his grip when John whimpers softly. “John, please look at me,” he tries to coax John to look at him; his eyes soft and pleading. “I’m not an easy man to love or live with for that matter not after Thomas’ death. It changed me into an monster and I’ve brought that darkness with me to this crew,” he says softly, “and to you, too. But you’ve always tried to take that darkness away from me until it worked. And now, I,” he laughs bitterly, “fucked it up because I lost good men. Look, it doesn't excuse my behavior, always berating you when that’s the last thing I should have done to the man I love.”

_Love?_ Hah, nice choice of words.

“Oh, James, don’t be like that.” He chuckles until his throat hurts from raw pain. “You and I both know we fucked each other because it’s easier for us to shut up the other. It’s all about power and control.” 

“No, John, that’s where you are wrong. It has never been about control or power for me. It’s always been about me.”

“Sure, captain.” He licks his upper lip self-consciously. _I want it to be that so badly, but no, we are not men who can love and live with each other without killing ourselves before._ “If it makes you feel better to think of me as your lover when we fucked, it doesn't matter to me. ”

“You are not a whore to me! If I had wanted a whore, I could get one.” He rubs circle into the back of John’s hand. “You are **_not_** simply someone I fucked You tell me off when I am wrong. You are the only person in this crew that I trust with my life. You are the man I am in love with. The only person I have allowed in my heart after Thomas. I am not a man who will lie to you, you know this, John.”

John sighs. He wants to believe Flint so badly, but he can’t find in his heart to trust the man before his very eyes. He can’t even trust himself not when it comes to Captain James Flint. He just can’t.

“James,” he says, trying to understand if this man who he holds dear to his heart is telling the truth, but he just can’t trust any word rolling off the man’s tongue. “I’m sorry but I don’t — _can’t_ — talk about this anymore.”

“John, please—”

“No, I can’t trust you. I can’t even trust myself. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t share a bed with you and pretend it means nothing to me.”

“John—”

“I have to do this. I love you, but I don’t know if your declaration of love is enough for me.” He smiles hating how much he feels broken inside. “For me. For you. For the men.”

Flint nods. “I understand John, but I will never give up on you. You are too valuable for me.” 

“Oh, I know.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
